You Must Be Broken Too
by ee-ii-ee-ii-oo
Summary: Juliette and Deacon are both struggling through what are possibly the worst nights of their lives. Can they find solace in conversation, or are they both beyond broken? A post-3.01 one shot.


**YOU MUST BE BROKEN TOO**

Juliette and Deacon are both struggling through what are possibly the worst nights of their lives. Can they find solace in conversation, or are they both beyond broken? A post-3.01 one shot. (Title came from a line in the song "Starlight" from Lori McKenna's new album "Numbered Doors." Look it up, it's amazing!)

This was a piece that came to me after I watched the premiere. I knew it would only be a one shot so I had to get it down while it was fresh on my mind. I am working on adding to my other story, but have been a little stalled on it.

Hope you all enjoy this! Please review and let me know how you like this!

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He stared at the amber liquid, somehow both still and violent, filling the smooth glass bottle to just below the metallic cap. It stared back, seducing him, almost daring him to move. Daring him to lean in, reach forward, pick it up and open it. Then take one sip. Just one to ease the pain in his heart. One sip to build back all the walls he'd torn down ... for her. One sip that would inevitably lead to another, then another. Until the only thing that filled the bottle was emptiness.

Just like he felt inside.

He made the move. Reaching out and almost succeeding, until pause came in the form of a frantic knock on his front door.

He was going to ignore it. Going to continue his task, but as his hand hit the neck of the bottle, an almost unrecognizable and very weak voice cried out. "Deacon, please. Open the door." The words dissolved into sobs and he could hear the door creak as she leaned against it.

Without a moment's hesitation, he dropped his hand from the toxic glass, realization of what he almost did hitting him hard. He rose and moved quickly to the door opening it carefully, not wanting her to fall.

"Juliette?" he asked softly, concern obvious in his drawl. "It's 1am."

What he saw when she looked up terrified him. He thought he had seen her at her worst, but nothing could have prepared him to see her typically bright eyes sunken and bloodshot, or her golden skin deathly pale.

"I know. I'm sorry. I .. I didn't know what else to do," she whispered up at him.

Placing an arm around her, he led her inside.

"Sweetheart, what happened?" Deacon asked gently, as he would to Maddie or Daphne. "You look like you haven't slept in three days."

Pulling away from him slightly, she sighed. "I haven't." She walked further into the room until she stopped stone cold. Her eyes moved slowly from the bottle on the table to Deacon and then back again. "Please tell me you haven't been drinking. Please. I need someone I can talk to right now, but if that ..." She paused. "I should go." She turned, but didn't get very far.

Deacon grabbed her elbow and held her in place. "I didn't drink, Juliette. I promise I didn't. I thought about it. But I didn't." She looked up at him skeptically. He picked up the bottle and held it up to her so she could see it. "It's still sealed. See?"

"Good," she said, nodding slightly. She suddenly took the bottle from his hands and opened it. He half expected her to take a gulp, but she surprised him by fighting her own exhaustion and distress, summoning the strength to walk over to his kitchen and pour the whiskey down the sink. He breathed a sigh of relief as she did, feeling a weight lifting off his shoulders. She held them empty bottle up and was clearly on the verge of tears again. "Why?"

He turned away ashamed. "From the looks of things I should be asking you the same question. Why are you here?"

"You're changing the subject."

"You're the one banging on my door at 1am," he responded, shaking his head at her. "You're the one who said you needed to talk."

It was as if his words destroyed the momentary reprieve from her pain and reminded her of why she had sought him out. She half-heartedly tossed the bottle into his trash can, squeezing her eyes shut as the glass shattered on impact with the ground. It reminded her of her own shattered heart. "I didn't know where else to go." She tentatively sat down on the far end of the leather sofa. Deacon did the same on the other end, angling himself so he could see her.

"You said that already. What I want to know is why you look like your life is over. I assume this has something to do with Avery?" He watched as she flinched at the sound of his name. "He, um, came by here earlier." That the younger man left with Scarlett was something he wasn't about to tell Juliette. He knew how deep the young woman's insecurities ran.

"So you know what I did." she said as she looked down at her hands, certain that Deacon also thought less of her now.

"No. He didn't say what happened," he said as she looked up at him with surprise. "Just that he needed to leave town. Needed to get away from you. He looked almost as bad off as you do now. Doesn't take a genius to figure out that something happened."

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "I happened. I did what I always do and screwed up everything. I got jealous. Of him and Scarlett." Juliette sighed and fought to keep her voice steady as she spilled the story. "It was after her collapse. I just wanted to not feel like that ... to not feel like there's always going to be someone better. So I went out and drank ... way too much obviously."

He raised his eyebrows at her. "I know he isn't that destroyed because you got drunk. Based on the last time I saw him that would make him the world's biggest hypocrite. What else happened?"

Juliette took a deep breath and spit out the words she hated so much. "I slept with Jeff Fordham."

It took a lot to shock Deacon Claybourne, but that certainly did it. It was literally the last thing that he ever thought would be the case. Avery's shattered appearance hours earlier made a hell of a lot more sense to him after that revelation.

"I know. I'm terrible," she mumbled.

"No, you aren't. You made a mistake. A massive one, mind you, but it was a mistake. Give it time. Maybe he'll come around." His voice broke slightly as he said the words, reminding him of his own situation. He pushed those thoughts away as he looked further into Juliette's blue eyes, that wouldn't quite meet his stare. This went deeper than just cheating on the love her life. He could see there was something more - something dark lurking in her countenance. "What aren't you telling me?"

Juliette's bottom lip quivered as she braced herself to say the words. "I'm pregnant." A shocked silence engulfed them both as Deacon took in this news. "I thought it was a stomach virus. I was just getting sick. But the doctor wouldn't give me a prescription to help me sleep and when I asked him why, he said it was because I'm pregnant." She finally looked back into his eyes. "I cannot have Jeff Fordham's baby, Deacon. I can't spend the rest of my life attached to that man. I hate him so much."

"Are ... are you positive it's his?" he asked quietly.

She nodded solemnly. "Avery and I were ... we were always so careful. Every time. The only time I wasn't careful was with Jeff. I was too drunk to think about it. It has to be his."

They sat in silence as the gravity of the situation lingered over them both.

"I can't be a mother to his child." She set her jaw with determination. "I'm going to terminate. There is no other choice."

Deacon thought for a second, concerned, not just for Juliette, but also the young man who had stumbled into the very same room hours earlier. He was friend to them both and he felt he had to ask. Had to push her to think about all the possibilities. "And if you're wrong?"

Her eyes shot daggers at him in anger. "I'm not wrong. I can't be," she responded, annoyance mixed with fear heavy on her lips.

"Do you really believe that?" he asked. "Or are you trying to convince yourself?"

Leaning back into the couch cushion, she closed her eyes, unable to look his direction again. "If it's Jeff's then I can just ... let go and move on."

"And if it's Avery's ...?"

The question hung in the air for what seemed like hours. It was only minutes. "I don't know," she whispered. "It's best to just not even let that be a possibility. It's better this way."

"Better for who?!" He hated himself for raising his voice to her, as soon as the tears sprang to Juliette's face yet again. "Look, sweetheart, I'm not going to tell you how to live your life. Or what decisions you should make. It's your choice. But you have to consider that it possibly is Avery's child. And if it is ... it's a child you created out of the love you two obviously have for each other. He deserves to at least know. Because finding out later, after the fact... that would be so much worse for him. And for you."

She shook her head almost violently. "He doesn't love me, Deacon," she said, wiping the steady stream of tears from her eyes.

Deacon shook his head, remembering the pain in Avery's eyes, the devastation that lingered in his expression as he stood in the doorway clutching the glass bottle the day before. "I don't believe that for a damn second."

"You weren't there ..." she sobbed, insistently.

"No, but I have been," he said. "I know that look of hurt and disappointment well. Let me tell you something... A love like the kind you two have doesn't die quickly."

She knew he was talking about Rayna. Juliette had spent enough time around both of them to know that their story wasn't over. That it probably never would be. She wasn't sure what happened to bring the situation to a head, but she had a feeling that her boss' seven carat engagement ring had something to do with it. "Is that the reason for the whiskey?"

He shrugged his shoulders and simply said, "She's marrying Luke."

Juliette nodded in understanding, well aware that it was all the information she would get from him on the subject. "I just ... he can't stand to even look at me, Deacon. How am I supposed to tell him that I'm pregnant? It probably is Jeff's. Wouldn't that hurt him even more?"

Deacon sighed and moved closer to her on the couch, placing a gentle hand on her knee. "I think it would hurt him worse for you to do this and say nothing and then it come out thirteen years from now. Trust me on that." She sniffled and leaned her head into his shoulder as he pulled her into a hug. "Do you still love him?"

He felt her nod into him and the dampness of her tears melting into his shirt. "More than I ever thought I could love someone."

"Part of love is honesty, Juliette. And the willingness to let go if you must. That is something you two have to figure out. But the only way you'll be able to do that is by laying the truth out there." He was fighting his own tears as he held her and let her cry.

They stayed that way for a while, until he felt the exhaustion take over her body. He grabbed a nearby sofa pillow and placed it on the other side of her, gently pushing her into a horizontal position as he stood. He pulled a soft blanket from the club chair and covered her.

"I'm scared," she whispered, not even opening her eyes.

Deacon stared down at her, grateful she couldn't see how worried he was about her. He had a feeling she might sleep for a while. He hoped she would. Avery and the other stuff could wait. All the girl needed at that moment was sleep. He silently prayed that things wouldn't look quite so dark once she got the rest she had obviously been deprived of for far too long.

"I know," he whispered, well aware that she was already sound asleep. "Believe me, I know."

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